


A Lady's Favor

by ChocoChipBiscuit



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-20
Updated: 2015-08-20
Packaged: 2018-04-16 07:06:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4615977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChocoChipBiscuit/pseuds/ChocoChipBiscuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassandra's foolish hands will always betray her heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Lady's Favor

“It is _hideous_.” Cassandra crouches to investigate the hairless mewling thing, its bulbous eyes set beneath heavy wrinkles. It either purrs or growls at her-- she cannot determine which. Either way, it sounds like a pepper-grinder.

“ _She_ most certainly is _not_ ,” Vivienne says, firm and decisive. Cassandra could sharpen blades on that tone. “However, she is naked and requires my full attention.”

“How very noble of you.”

Vivienne lowers herself with a bend of her knees, gathering the little sphynx in her arms. The cat chirps in ecstasy, butting its head under Vivienne’s chin. “Altruism is not one of my virtues, alas,” she says with a warm and self-deprecating smile, fleeting as a flash of sunlight on a distant lake. “But at least the dear is unable to shed all over my attire.”

And Cassandra certainly sees more of the cat over time, bundled in its own little sweater and soaking up warmth in the kitchen when Cassandra enters in search of a post-training snack, napping in Vivienne’s lap when Cassandra returns a borrowed book, and (most unexpectedly) blinking at her during a bath.

 _Most_ unsettling.

* * *

 

“Why has your _pet_ brought me a mouse?”

“Alive or dead, dear?” Vivienne asks, placing a ribbon in the middle of her current book, a leather-bound tome on Circle traditions across Thedas.

“Alive. Though that may yet change if that cat--”

“Her name is Daphnae, dear.”

“--if Daphnae catches it again.”

Vivienne smiles, crossing her legs in a way Cassandra finds most distracting. “Daphnae is attempting to educate you in the ways of the hunt. It is her nurturing side, I suppose.”

“Her nurturing-- ugh!” Cassandra makes a disgusted noise. Then raps her knuckles on the desk, leaning forward. “Wait. Why does she fancy me unskilled?”

“You would have to ask her, dear.”

* * *

 

Cassandra recognizes the foolishness of it-- a fumbling weakness, ridiculous as pigtails on a dowager or chainmail smallclothes-- but brings her own trophies to Daphnae. A withered tail of deepstalker, smoked and utterly repugnant from how Daphnae promptly tries to bury it.

(“Really, dear, would _you_ eat it?” Vivienne sighs, offering Cassandra a salmon canape from her own tray.)

The pelt of a great bear, tanned supple and the fur thick, ample protection from any of Skyhold’s stony chill. Daphnae rolls on it with paroxysms of ecstasy, eyes narrowed to slits and pepper-grinder purr like a snoring dragon.

(“Thank you, dear. She adores it. Now, I found this lovely scarf. Crimson shot with gold threads, it is quite warm and should keep you from frostbite next time we venture into the Emprise du Lion.”)

But at some point, the trinkets turn from injured pride to seeking treasures simply for joy’s sake. A sachet of cat-mint tied with blue ribbon, a handful of glass marbles glinting iridescent in the light, and a cloth mouse which squeaks when pressed.

Vivienne returns the cat-mint with a firm but gentle, “Dear, please do not encourage my cat to delinquency,” as Daphnae falls over, batting at invisible butterflies with dilated pupils. She then invites Cassandra to sit to a fine tea flavored with bergamot and lavender, plus a faint sprinkle of sugar that Cassandra does not ask for but Vivienne stirs with the certainty that Cassandra will love it.

(And she does.)

The marbles scatter and disappear, vanishing beneath dressers, tumbling down stairs, rolling behind cabinets, and emerging in unlikely places. Usually with Daphnae in hot pursuit, tail lashing in excitement.

Vivienne pulls Cassandra aside to thank her with a press of her fingers to Cassandra’s palm, smooth nails a whisper-tingle of friction over Cassandra’s calluses.

“Daphnae has been enjoying her exercise. Which reminds me, I found this for you on our last trip to Val Royeaux. It is a balm for sore muscles. Rose scented, of course.”

And the squeaky mouse appears in Cassandra’s underthings, making her shriek. She seizes the offending item and marches to Vivienne’s quarters, fists clenched.

“Madame de Fer,” she says, voice tight with irritation at the _cat_ , not the fine lady herself, “I believe this is yours.”

Vivienne looks up from her book, the cut of moonlight through the glass angling across her features. Her exquisite mouth turns up in a smile. “An unusual token, to be sure. I do believe traditionally the elegant lady-- myself, of course-- gives a favor to the noble knight-- and none nobler than yourself, of course. But I accept.”

Cassandra blinks, agape, and looks down. Realization spatters hot across the bridge of her nose, seeps to her cheeks until she’s certain her very marrow’s boiling. _Maker_. She grabbed not only the offending toy, but her own most ridiculously scanty underthings, the black lace Cassandra had been bold enough to _buy_ but not yet _wear_ \--

Vivienne falters, a hairline crack in her perfect composure. “Or was this _not_ the culmination of an extended and awkward courtship?” Doubt flutters moth-shadows in her eyes. The first time-- Cassandra realizes-- she has ever seen Vivienne _vulnerable_.

“I-- I had not intended--” But Cassandra feels the weight of possibility on her shoulders, a whispered chill of fear and anticipation. “I never--” Never sought, never looked, never dared hope because Cassandra is a dreamer, an idealist, but also rooted in the realities of this world.

Yet there are so many things beyond this world. The truth of the Maker and the soaring Chant, the greater miracles and the smaller glories and Vivienne somewhere between the two.

“My foolish hands betrayed my heart.”

“As they always do, my dear.”

Daphnae pours from Vivienne’s lap and intertwines about their ankles with a satisfied purr as Vivienne takes Cassandra’s hands-- her blunt fingers and ragged nails, scarred knuckles and rough palms-- in her own.

Cassandra does not even care she’s still clutching the lace and filthy cat toy.

**Author's Note:**

> The sphynx cat that Vivienne takes in was inspired by this lovely comic by [inklie on tumblr.](http://inklie.tumblr.com/post/123488905670/headcannon-that-vivi-finds-a-stray-sphynx-cat-that)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [And Heaven Too](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8972041) by [skyeward](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyeward/pseuds/skyeward)




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